Avatar NOT Ready
by Queen Sydon
Summary: The Avatar Warmech has just been introduced. And in just three days, it's the laughing stock of Nod. What adventures will this stupid machine find itself in when in the hands of the Brotherhoods' most inept soldiers?
1. Dance Dance Avatar Revolution

Yellow Zone Y-15

3pm

No other mechanized weapon in Nods Arsenal was more fearsome than the biblical Avatar Warmech. Standing at roughly 20 feet and coloured in sleek gunmetal black with pulsing crimson orb-like lights on its torso, it was one hell of a sight. Each thundering footstep it took shook the earth and caused small mutant animals to bury themselves in fear. Even Nod militant groups stayed clear of the Avatar, as it had a knack for stomping fellow troops to death underneath its talon-like feet. Its type-48 Obelisk Rail-Cannon mounted on its left forearm was devastating to GDI vehicles and structures. The beam would just punch through armor effortlessly and basically blow anything up. If the Avatar wasn't fearsome enough, it also had the ability to steal parts from already functioning Nod units in the field, destroying it and the crew within…

So one might ask: with such a weapon, how could Nod ever falter in the battlefield? The answer is simple…

The Avatar Warmech sucks ASS.

X

The huge walker fell forward like a massive tree severed at the stump. The force of gravity drove it downwards and sent it smashing face-flat onto the barren landscape; kicking up a shockwave of dust that fanned out for several hundred meters. For a good two-minutes, the Avatar just lays there, dejected. Then slowly-painfully, it hobbles back onto its skinny legs and stands straight, still shaking nervously.

From within the vehicle, Master Sergeant Bob was at the controls, with his co-pilot Stacy. The cockpit they were manning was to say the least, a work of pure genius. Instead of control toggles or even a steering wheel, Bob instead navigated the Avatar by way of a colourful dance mat adorned with arrows that was welded to the floor. His feet moved in a blur as the arrows blipped on and off at random to the hip techno music blasting out of the wall-mounted speakers. Stacy, thankfully, was only in charge of the complicated weapons systems; a single, large red button with the word 'Layzer' written on it.

"Ah, shit! I hate driving this stupid piece of crap. DDR was a nice stroll compared to this!" Bob fumed. He was average in height, weight, and build. Basically he was just average. As a Nod standard, he wore a grey sports jacket with detachable hood and faded grey jeans; the official uniform of most Nod lackeys. At times it bugged the crap out of Bob that some Nod troops could dally about dressed as cyborg-ninja's or juggernaut dudes decked out in bulky black armor and waving flamethrowers about. But no, it was OK. It came with a HOOD.

"Ow." Stacy said simply. She was upside-down and collapsed on top of the main control panel; thanks to the Avatars graceful fall from before. Stacy was dressed in the same 'fashion' as Bob, except she had a small Hello Kitty button on her uniform.

"Ok, there, and…argh..come…….ON!" Bob mumbled as he forced the Avatar to hobble along. Next to him, Stacy slid herself off the panel and took her seat again.

The front viewing window of the Avatar showed an exciting view of barren deserted landscape for thousands of miles. If lucky, one would spot a CACTUS about, then you had to make a wish. So yeah, it was a boring view.

"You alright Stace?" Bob asked, not taking his eyes off the arrows at his feet as they did their best to induce a seizure.

Stacey shrugged and patted her short brown hair. "Why..."

"For de glor-eh of NOD!" Bob yelled, trying to stay in beat. "But seriously, why couldn't they just stick us in a Raider buggy or something? I mean, just what the HELL is the point of building a biped walker in the first place? Think of the production costs, and the fact that this machine is so tall that it increases the chances of getting hit by any sort of forward-aimed firepower by a shitload."

Stacy smirked. "Logic."

"Damn right. I mean, who gave the go-ahead for these things?"

X

"Sir." Some faceless general entered a dark room in some unknown location.

Seated at a throne in the middle of the room was Kane himself, flicking through a dirt bike magazine.

"Huh?" Kane looked up the guy, narrowing his eyebrows.

The general posed rigidly. "The Avatar Warmech project was a complete failure, sir. Many problems were found with the vehicles stability and balance. The control scheme was incredibly difficult to work effectively. The fact that it was designed to kill fellow units to increase its firepower instead of having these parts installed prior to construction was beyond stupid."

A pause. Kane takes it all in silently. Then he shrugs nonchantly.

"Oh, well. That sucks." Kane replies calmly. "Just answer me this, is the vehicle big and menacing?"

"Yes it is, sir."

"Does it shake the earth when it walks?"

"I believe it does, sir."

"And you say the control scheme is hard it use?"

"Yes, apparently, there's no way to control it without prior skill in Dance Dance Revolution."

Kane clasps his hands together in front of his face.

"Interesting. I want them deployed in battle immediately."

"But sir-"

Kane immediately gave the young general that 'look' of his.

"…As you wish."

X

"Anyways," Bob mused. "Our patrol's over, let's head back to base already. I wonder if that stupid Tiberium Infusion upgrade's ready."

The Avatar wobbled along; waving its arms around frantically to keep its balance.

Then, Stacey spoke up alarmingly.

"GDI."

"WHAT?" Bob screamed.

He couldn't believe he had missed them. A whole convoy of GDI Tanks and an endless river of random infantry had materialized out of nowhere All of them were now staring straight at him.

"Ideas?" Stacey asked, her tone defeated.

Bob was silent.

Then it happened. It started as a soft creaking sound and then increased in pitch. Many of the GDI troops exchanged worried glances; never having seen an Avatar Warmech before.

It came as a shock to the GDI battalion when the strange robot slowly keeled over and fell flat on its face.

"What…the…F&(?!" One salty Commando cried.

GDI took a moment to recollect themselves, and then began moving off into the distance; ignoring the fallen walker.

After they had all gone, Bob just shook his head from within the Avatar.

"Irony." Stacey quipped.

"Let's…just go home."

Once again, the Avatar got back to its feet with all the grace of an epileptic hobo on crack, and set off once more.


	2. A Change in Plans

_AN: Well I'm pretty sure this won't cause much of a stir in the scheme of things, but I just had to continue this little piece. For the few people who might read this, enjoy the ride! Also, thanks a bunch to the last reviewers, Heliopolis, Stewman2k7, and FAT DUDE._

**AVATAR NOT READY**

Second,

"A change in plans."

NOD Recon Outpost 'Adel'

3:42pm

This remote NOD base had probably the least strategic value in the entire world. So it came as very little surprise that hardly any form of action took place on a daily basis. In fact, the base was so unimportant that communications with the main branches of NOD had long since been completely unused. They were just a bunch of guys that had totally fallen out of the loop of things. Aside from hardly having anything to fight, the men hadn't much else to call upon for entertainment. That was until their only Avatar Warmech came tripping into its hangar. They hadn't laughed like that for a while.

The hangar door slammed close behind the useless mech; somewhat muffling the barrage of laughter from outside. Bob and Stacy clambered out of the machine, glad to be on their own two feet.

"I hope that's the last recon we have to do with this thing." Bob grumbled; flipping the hood off his head to reveal his no-nonsense average brown hair.

"Embarassing." Stacy sighed with a slow shake of her head. Off across the widely vacant hangar, a young general who looked remarkably like former President Tom Cruise approached the disgruntled duo. When Bob spotted him coming closer, he had to struggle not to screw his face up in disgust. The general was actually the Base Commander, and in just three days of his being in charge he was already hated by everyone. He was Base Commander Arnold Kingsley, a skinny little whelp whose only skill was politics. In short, Kingsley was the worst kind of soldier; a pessimistic ladder-climber who had no real combat experience but still felt he was worthy enough to make everyone's routine more than a little unbearable.

The General walked briskly towards them; his stuck-up swagger reeking of unbelievable arrogance.

"Master Sergeant Bob and First Lieutenant Stacy." Kingsley greeted; his tone lazy and pompous. "I trust nothing outward occurred on your mission?"

Bob and Stacy saluted rigidly.

"Our mission was carried out without incident, sir. We spotted a GDI battallion headed north-west a few hours ago. They're probably long-gone by now." Bob reported slowly.

Kingsley just stared at Bob as he spoke; bored as usual.

"So, how did you find the Avatar Warmech? Is there anything you think should be changed?"

Bob shared a surprised look with Stacy. It was rare that Kingsley ever ask further on a matter that didn't concern him.

"Well…now that you ask…" Bob shrugged.

Kinglsey suddenly put his hand forward as a gesture that Bob not say another word.

"I'm sorry, Bob but you've mistaken me as someone who gives a shit." Kingsley smirked.

Bob narrowed his eyes angrily but stayed quiet. Stacy just fumed beside him.

"I want both of you sorry asses to write out a full report and have the Avatar fully repaired by tomorrow. Is that clear?"

Bob and Stacy saluted once again; almost bursting with the need to shut the little bastard up.

"That'll be all." Kingsley snapped, turned on his heel and walked away.

When Kingsley was out of earshot, Bob crossed his arms and muttered: "I'd like to see the Blackhand roast that son-of-a-bitch."

"Concur." Stacy approved.

After a long day of work, Bob and Stacy agreed that they deserved a day's rest. So the two headed off towards the nearby Hand Of Nod; traversing the base under the baking desert sun.

"Damn this heat." Bob grumbled and wiped his glistening forehead with his sleeve. "I can't wait to just relax and watch some TV."

Stacy was about to add to the conversation but something caught her eye from the mass of varied infanty they walked amongst. Her eyes widened in surprise and she nudged Bob sharply in the ribs.

"…Urk! Oh, what the hell are you-" Bob noticed her staring forwards apprehensively so he followed her gaze to see the source of the trouble.

Bob almost tripped in surprise. It was Gary. The self-proclaimed leader of the Avatar Fan Club. The sad thing was it wasn't a joke at all. He and a bunch of other Nod troops _seriously _thought the Avatar, and its pilots, were the heroes of Nod. And the worst part of it all, was that Gary was just a few metres in front of them. He was only a few seconds away from spotting the already embarassed duo.

"Crap…" Stacy hissed, looking around herself for a way out. Bob was frantic to do the same, but the crowd around them was incredibly thick. At one point, Bob tried to pry his way through a group of Rocket Soldiers only to be sent sprawling on his ass a moment later. Stacy was just as unsuccessful, and as the two found themselves thrown together again by the momentum of the crowd, Gary spotted them and instantly bolted towards them, knocking over a group of Shadow troops on his way.

Bob and Stacy groaned consecutively and made no effort to seem polite when Gary made his greetings.

"YO! Man, it's been ages since I last saw you two! I heard you took the Avatar out for another slice of mayhem?" Gary commented loudly, his ginger youthful tone in stark contrast to his huge armour clad self and the fact that his role in the war effort was to bathe enemy troops in searing flame. Gary himself was good-looking, albeit in an unoriginal sense, with his stern crew-cut brown hair and earnest blue eyes.

Bob sighed. "Yeah…it was actually pretty dissappointing, Gary."

Gary beamed, having not really heard him. "Oh, that's sounds awesome!" He then turned towards Stacy, who was staring at him with more than the usual amount of bored contempt. Gary noticably stiffened under her hard gaze and it reflected in his tone.

"Uhhh, hey, Stacy. You look…nice." Gary gave a big grin.

Stacy stared back, a little surprised at the compliment. She half-smiled and nodded politely.

"So…" He turned back to Bob. "What're you guys gonna do now?"

Bob rubbed one of his shoulders gingerly. "To tell you the truth, I'm sore as hell. I just wanna get out from under this heat, go back to my room in the barracks, turn the air-conditioning to max and relax in front of the TV. Mundane, I know, but I deserve a break."

Stacy flipped the hood off her head and smoothed out her short snow-blonde hair. One thing that stood out from Stacy most, was her apparent lack of interest in standing out at all, contradictory as it was. NOD lived in an age that had no room for sexual discrimination, so women were a regular part of General Infantry Units nowadays. Even so, Stacy had never actually been in real combat, and neither had Bob. They'd 'joined' NOD after running away from their dilapidated hometown solely for the reason that they had no other way to maintain themselves in the crappy planet known as Earth.

They simply had no other way to live at this point, and it was pure luck that the base they lived their lives in never saw any action. The two had been glad to have a peaceful, albeit unexiciting life together. Often, people would jump to the conclusion that Bob and Stacy shared a romantic relationship. Whenever this came into conversation with either of the two, they would laugh themselves stupid. Bob and Stacy had only one thing in common, and that was their cynical view of the world.

Gary flashed a huge grin. "Well if anyone deserves a good lie-down, it's you two."

Bob and Stacy shrugged nonchantly, not adding anything to the conversation, instead choosing to wait until Gary ran out of anything else to say.

"So…" Gary began, raising his armored hands into the sky. Two more soldiers appeared at his sides and did the same; bowing their heads low. They then twirled on the spot like ballerinas and finished with a big jump before landing on their knees and spreading their arms out wide. "We wish you all the best!!"

The duo simply shrank their shoulders inwards, embarassed beyond belief.

"And so…great heroes of NOD…!" Gary continued.

Bob stepped forward urgently. "No, please…!"

"WE SALUTE YOU!!!!" They screamed in high-pitched voices, shattering nearby windows.

Bob wanted to simply dissappear on the spot. Stacy must've felt the same way as the troops all around them broke into uproarious laughter.

X

"Ugh." Stacy grunted as she lifted herself onto the top bunk of the bed and immediately laid still; facing the wall. Bob shifted onto the bottom bunk and sat up against the adjacent wall, picking up the TV remote in the process and pressing the power button.

The pathetically small TV across the room flickered to life and revealed to be showing one of Bob's favourite shows; the ones that put him to sleep the quickest. Bob hit the mute button on the remote and instantly felt his eyelids growing heavy as the NOD propaganda channel droned on; showing Kane pointing at the camera as big red words appeared beneath him that read 'Uncle Kane wants YOU!'.

Bob sighed as the familiar feeling of sleep slowly wrapped him in its warm merciful embrace.

Then-

_!!! BROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP!!!!_

Bob's eyes shot open in an instant. He didn't recognize the sound blaring out of the wall-mounted speakers, but he gathered that it was something he thought he'd n_ever _hear.

"ALARM!!" Someone from outside his dorm screamed, followed by more muffled panicked shouts and droning thunder of countless feet.

Bob finally came to his senses and he quickly stood up from his bed before a force from above drove him into the floor.

"Argh!!" Bob yelled in pain.

Stacy had leapt off her bed in alarm and had landed squarely on Bob's back. When she noticed how the floor was writhing in pain, she looked down to see herself standing atop her friend sprawled on the floor.

Stacy covered her mouth in shock and quickly leapt off Bob's back and helped him to his feet.

Bob groaned and glared at her coldly. She bowed her head sheepishly.

"Sorry." She murmered quietly.

Bob was about to make a snappy reply when he remembered what the cause of the trouble was. His eyes widened and the pain in his back was temporarily forgotten.

"Y'know, Stace, that sound that I'm hearing is quite alarming." Bob joked.

"Lame." She muttered with a wry smile, before her face darkened grimly.

"I think we better gear up."

A few minutes later, the two had donned their uniforms once again with their crappy MG96 rifles in hand, racing down the wide corridor of the barracks that lead back out into the base grounds; hundreds of other varied infantry running at their every side.

Soon, like a torrential waterfall, they blasted out of the main doors out into the orange dawn; their weapons raised in the air and a steady storm of anti-GDI chatter raving everywhere.

Bob and Stacy were quiet. This is NOT what they had wanted. And the thing they most feared was heard before it was seen. A thunderclap of numerous explosions roared over at some distant part of the base. Gunfire of many calibers erupted shortly after, followed by the unmistakable sounds of GDI artillery and armor.

"This is IT! We will fight for NOD!!"

"YYYEAAAAAAAH!!!"

"Make them SUFFER!!"

They were sure fired up for a battle they could never possibly win, Bob mused darkly. Not only had GDI caught them by surprise, but he'd lived long enough in the base to know that it was never meant to stand up to attack.

Stacy was breathing hard, gripping Bob's shoulder to keep from being seperated by the bloodthirsty mob. Soon after, the infantry rose up over a steep hill. Bob no longer had a line of sight to what was going on ahead, but what happened next chilled him to the bone. As the first line of soldiers clambered over the hill, a _murderous _storm of GDI gunfire simply devoured them where they stood. Ripping their bodies to shreds; their fanatical shouts abruptly cut short. Bob just stared in terror at the sight. It was even more shocking to see the next line of infantry simply clamber over the bodies of their comrades and race over the hill; still screaming in jubilation. The result was even more brutal this time. They looked like puppets whose strings had been instantly cut as their bodies toppled off of the edge of the hill and dissappeared from sight.

Bob frantically reached over and took a hold of Stacy's hand from his shoulder. He looked back at her slowly. There were tears in her eyes, and her expression said it all: she wasn't ready to die. Bob wanted to simply reach over and take her away from this place, but it was impossible now. The infantry consuming every inch of space around them simply powered forward like a tidal wave, taking the two of them helplessly to the cliffs of death.

"Stace!" Bob yelled, barely hearing his own voice over the mayhem around him. Stacy just gripped his hand tighter and pursed her lips. The soldiers around them picked up their fervour and sent the two sprawling over the hill. Bob caught a spine chilling view of the GDI weaponry as he fell: thirty or so APC's, countless riflemen, scores of Commando's. _They had never stood a chance. _

As Bob fell forward, he pulled Stacy towards himself, shielding her from the tumble so the two went rolling down the hill together. More gunfire ripped the air around them, punching into human flesh with meaty 'SCHNAKS!'.

Despite the carnage around him, Bob managed to say: "See you soon, Stace."

Stacy simply replied: "Later."

An titanic explosion erupted nearby, throwing hundreds of burning soldiers in every direction. More explosions followed as a merciless artillery barrage was brought down on the soldiers, breaking their lines helplessly. More gunfire, more shouting. Then silence.

X

General Steve Larkham surveyed the aftermath of the battle with sad eyes. Larkham had been previously retired, but had been brought back into service a year ago, and needless to say he'd already had enough. Though his posture and general physical shape hadn't faltered, his face was already creased with age and his hair a bleak silver. His warm green eyes were almost always drooped in battle fatigue, more than anything saying that he'd seen more than he had to. His desert orange Officers Cloak was caked in dust as was his matching cap, but he couldn't care less.

"Sir!" Major Kruschev approached from behind him. A soldier much like Larkham himself, tired of battle and and wanting for the war to simply end. Kruschev was a bit younger than Larkham, his hair still a dreary brown with matching eyes; hardened but weary. His strong Russian accent one of his key feautures. "I know what you may be thinking, General. But there was no other course of action for this situation. They simply refused to surrender. For them to charge at us from the hilltop was foolish…"

Larkham looked over at Kruschev drearily. The Neo-Russian Major was looking out over the quietened battlefield slowly.

"Foolish but admirable." Kruschev finished.

Larkham smiled sadly at his friend.

Several GDI soldiers were busy at work gathering the bodies of the fallen NOD troops, lining their bodies side by side and covering them with white drapes. Long pillars of smoke were rising from a distance away over the hill. The remnants of the NOD recon outpost.

Larkham was about to turn away from the sight until a distant call got his attention. Kruschev took notice of it as well.

"General!" A soldier amongst the bodies of the NOD troops called out; waving his arms. Larkham locked eyes with the soldier, who immediately pointed at one of the bodies and cupped his mouth with his free hand.

"This one's still alive!"

X


	3. Stacy's Death and Other Things

_AN: Thanks to FAT DUDE, Krivoklatsko, Heliopolis, Stewman2k7 and Death Korps for the nice reviews. Enjoy all!_

**AVATAR NOT READY**

Third,

_Stacy's Death and Other Things_

Bob didn't know at what point he and the Avatar Warmech had become such good friends. At the moment, Bob was seated casually on the rim of a massive chasm that stretched onwards into the cherry-pink sky itself. Bob sipped from a cup of hot cocoa patiently, staring into the swirling liquid with an amused but otherwise blank expression.

"Say, Trevor…" Bob started, turning to the huge mechanized walker sitting beside him, also with a tiny mug of cocoa grasped gingerly in its huge claw. He didn't know why it was called Trevor, it just was. "How long have I been here?"

Trevor lifts the mug up to its 'face', pouring the drink over its frontal armour. "Not sure, Bob." It said casually, its male voice ordinary and level. "Even so, I think I'm part of this delusion."

Bob narrows his eyes slightly, staring off into the sky below him. "I'm dreaming, am I?"

"No, not a dream, more like a window beyond the infinite."

"I see."

"Uh, huh."

Neither of them say anything for a while. The silence made Bob realize just how empty the area around him was. Save for his relaxed breathing and the dull cybernetic hum of Trevor's chassis, nothing else could be heard.

"Where's Stacy?" Bob suddenly asked.

Trevor fiddled with his mug a bit before answering.

"I don't know, but I think she's gone now."

"Gone? You mean…" Bob got a chill in his back, glancing downwards briefly. "…down there?"

Trevor was silent. Bob didn't bother asking further.

"Stace…" Bob murmered quietly. His features grimaced fervently, his eyes glistening. "Oh, Stace."

"You remember now?"

"Yeah." Bob recalled grimly. "Those GDI guys came down at us. Then, we… we were killed?" He ended it as a question, looking over at Trevor.

"No, you're not dead." Trevor assured him.

"That's not what I'm concerned with. I want to know what happened to Stacy? Is she okay. Alive?"

"No, I don't think so." Trevor replied bluntly.

Bob felt a part of him tear away at those words. He suddenly lost his appetite completely and let his mug of cocoa slip from his fingers and fall away into nothingness. He watched it for a while, thinking nothing, wanting nothing, the bile crawling up his throat the only sensation his body registered.

"Or maybe you're asking stupid questions. How the crap should I know something like that?"

Bob threw up where he sat, effectively swivelling on the spot and sending the thick stream splattering over Trevors' leg.

"THE SHIT!!" Trevor screamed.

Bob ceased the attack and fell backwards, landing on his head painfully. The sudden surge of pain spread through his body like fire. For some reason, the first thing that rushed through his mind was his first meeting with Stacy.

Trevor stood quickly, the vomit dripping from its foreleg disgustingly. "Bob, this is no time for a flashback!"

"Shut it." Bob groaned and closed his eyes.

He was fifteen again, running around in circles in some crappy town in a crappy part of the world. Everything smelt of old mustard and every building was trashed and torn in some manner. It was here that Bob realized there wasn't much in the world to look forward to, in terms of career oppurtunities. He had no ambition, and he got bored easily. While some kids could kick a lump of pigskin around and call it fun, Bob could never adhere to that. He _wished _he had that blissful sense of simply enjoying one's liberties, but alas, it had never crossed him. Those days were so mundane and no different from one another that years could pass with nothing to differentiate the days from one another. An ion storm, a mutant animal scampering through the dusty streets, that was about the height of what took place there.

"Hey, c'mon. Why are you going through this now?" Trevor chimed in.

"Don't interrupt. How else are they gonna know how Stacy and I met?" Bob snapped, still lying on his back, his eyes shut.

"Whose 'they'? And who cares really?"

"Let me finish!"

One day, an event changed everything. Well, not really. That's just a cheesy way to put it. He met a new person he could relate to, and the scenery changed slightly. That was about it. Bob recalled that day like it was any other (because it was just like every other frickin day)

A young unremarkable-looking girl approached Bob as he sat staring off into the distance of the outskirts of his town. Bob noticed the tired and sarcastic gleam in her eyes, and the expression she wore told of nothing but boring adventures and a desire to eat food, breathe and drink water.

"Hey." Bob nodded towards her.

"Hello." She replied and plopped down beside him, staring off at the excrutiatingly detailed scenery.

"What's your name?" Bob asked.

"Why?" She arched her eyebrow.

"So I can tell you mine."

"Bob…"

"Oh, you know me already?"

"Yes."

"So…what's your name? I don't know you."

"….."

"Fine. We'll just sit here awkwardly until one of us dies of excitement."

The girl almost smiled at that remark.

Bob grinned. "Hah, I saw that."

"What?" Her half-smile dissappearing.

"Come on, I haven't said this much to anyone before. Tell me your name."

"…Stacy."

"Well then, Stacy. We can enjoy this mind-numbingly boring life together. Whadda ya say?"

Stacy leaned back and placed her palms on the floor, resting her head on her shoudlers and yawning loudly.

Bob did the same on impulse. For ten whole minutes, the two just sat there with equally uninterested looks plastered on their faces.

Then-

"Huh?" Bob thought he had heard something, like a shrill whine of some kind.

Stacy stiffened.

"Did you just…?"

She looked away.

A stifling silence passed. Until, Bob simply burst out laughing.

At first, Stacy tried to hide her embarassment, but then she just let go and followed suit, bellowing at the top of her lungs.

Neither knew why, but they couldn't stop to even catch their breath. Even as night fell, they giggled and laughed stupidly until the moment passed and they resumed to sit motionlessly once more.

"Amusing."

Present day Bob coughed loudly, spurting more of his stomach contents into the air. "Ugh"

"Man, that flashback seemed pointless." Trevor exclaimed. "I guess that also means they almost have you."

"Who…?"

"PUDDING!!" Trevor screamed.

Bob scrunched his face up, more than confused. It was then that Trevor promptly took hold of Bob and threw him off the edge of the cliff.

"WOOOAAAAAGGHHHHH!!"

He didn't fall for very long before a bed of some kind greeted him, the instant transition between his mind and reality leaving him more than a little shaken up. Yeah, he kept screaming until things finally came back into focus. Some bright lights, metallic, concrete ceiling, people in white coats standing around him, Stacy leaning towards him.

"STACY!!" Bob yelled and took hold of her shoulders. "PUDDING!!"

The nurse screamed, madly prying at Bob's hands to get him to release her.

Unseen hands grabbed Bob from all angles and pushed him down onto the bed.

Then, like a hangover from hell, an anvil of a headache hit Bob squarely on the head, leaving him lying down flat until his dulled senses painfully returned.

"Ugh" Bob groaned inwardly. He opened his eyes fully and took in all the people standing around him. Most of them were doctors of sorts, wearing those cliched robes and stethoscops and the like. He noticed one of the nurses, the one he had mistaked for Stacy before, glaring at him in an admonishing way.

"Hello, young man. Can you hear what I am saying?" One of the doctors said. The old and wise-looking stereotype complete with a grizzled grey beard.

"Yes, I can. Don't ask anymore obvious questions or I'll be forced to to reply with a range of pre-selected snappy replies."

"I see…well I suppose we can rule out the possibility of mental retardation." The guy was serious.

"Hey, I'm not handicapped. I can sorta remember what happened. The base I was in was attacked by GDI, yeah? And I guess…I must've survived…" Bob recalled, his tone growing more demure with each word.

"Yes, you survived, along with some others."

Bob shot upwards, causing the nurse from before to shriek briefly.

"WHERE?! The other survivors, I have to see them!!" Bob screamed, trying to leap out of bed but his body refusing to move more than it had already.

"Relax, there will be time for that…"

"Just please tell me if there was someone in my arms when you rescued me? A woman, about my age, with short blonde hair?"

None of the doctors said anything, clearly not knowing a thing.

"At least tell me, if she…"

"We don't know what happened to your girlfriend, young man. But rest assured, we will find out if she is among the survivors."

Bob groaned again, falling back onto the bed. "She isn't my girlfriend, doctor. Why do people always say that?!"

"Okay, okay. Just rest for now then."

Bob suddenly realized something. Why were there so many people in the room with him? He was a Nod soldier, after all, just like legions of others. So why the special treatment?

"Doctor, answer me something, eh?" Bob sat up again, his tone serious. "I can tell when people want something from me. So just explain it to me now please. I know I'm not something special, so why all the attention?"

The doctors, or scientists, or whoever the people were, looked at one another srangely. Then, the old guy spoke again.

"I see there's no dallying around the lily pond with you."

"Huh?"

"You are an Avatar Warmech pilot, yes?"

Bob pondered the question for a moment. Should he deny it? Would they kill him if they knew it was true? Or maybe…

"You…have some use for me, eh?" Bob mumbled, not liking where the conversation was heading.

"To put it bluntly, yes."

Another doctor stepped forward, a middle-aged woman whose jaw looked like it was wider than her head.

"We want you to pilot our own reverse-engineered Avatars." The woman's voice was so raspy it sounded like she'd swallowed a scouring pad.

Bob groaned. Just when he thought that his days piloting the stupid thing were over, GDI now saw fit to put him back into the idiotic machine.

"And what if I refuse?" Bob snapped.

The woman doctor smirked widely. "Then you will be treated as any other Nod prisoner and sent to a nearby GDI re-conversion centre for a 2-year program to transform you back into a working member of society."

Bob gulped. Two years? To hell with that.

"Fine, whatever. On one condition." Bob started annoyingly. "I want to meet the other survivors, right now."

The old doctor guy nodded. "Already done, once you're able to walk…"

Bob was already on his feet, cracking away the stiffness in his shoulders.

"And put on some pants…eventually." The nurse from before added, staring at Bob's lower quarters with a mixture of revulsion and utter fascination.

Bob was too tired to be embarassed. "My uniform around here?"

Later…

"BOB!!" Gary screamed loud enough to wake every other patient in the spacious room; some leaping out of their beds and crashing to the floor.

Bob's eyes went wide. "Ga-OOOPHH!!"

Gary spear tackled Bob to floor, knocking the wind out of him. Before Bob could even catch his breath, Gary hefted him from the ground and stood Bob onto his shaking feet.

"HOW. HAVE. YOU. BEEN?!" Gary yelled, slapping Bob on the shoulder playfully.

"Not too bad." Bob grimaced, sure that one of his ribs were broken. Gary was still donned in his Black Hand getup, except it was scorched and scarred in many places, and Gary's left arm was in a sling. "I'm glad you're OK." Bob added sincerely, but his eyes scanned the room around them for any sign of Stacy.

"Yeah, nothing could take me down, y'know." Gary started, as Bob walked past him, going by the many beds lining the walls, taking in each occupant carefully. "So anyways, when we were taken in here by these GDI guys, I mentioned to them that you deserved better treatment! I mean, you're an Avatar Warmech pilot, for fudge's sake! Then they take you away for a few days, all the while with you sleeping like a baby juiced on drugs, and then--"

Bob whirled around to Gary suddenly, staring him inches from the face.

"Gary, shut up for a second. Is Stacy here?" He asked abruptly.

Gary's constant cheer faded with the question. "…I…looked for her here as soon as I could walk. I..couldn't…"

Bob sighed deeply, feeling that familiar sense of acidic dread building up within him again.

"B-but, don't worry, man!" Gary reassured him, sensing Bob's demeanour plummet. "They ran ID checks on the KIA, and when I asked them to search for Stacy's number, one of them was nice enough to look her up!"

"So…" Bob breathed, feeling elated.

"She has to still be alive, mate. Somewhere." Gary smiled wildly. "I'm sure of it."

Bob winced. "Okay, okay, that's a huge relief but do you really have to say it that way. This war's still going, so save the cheesy stuff for later."

"Yes, Master Sergeant!"

"Oh, and I have a special order for you."

"Whatever you need!"

"Convert as many of our guys as you can. Don't let GDI send you off to those conversion centres. Kane is no man worth fighting for."

Gary chuckled briefly. "What? You thought you were the only one who didn't believe in Kane's vision?"

"What?" Bob asked, geniunely surprised. "You're telling me…"

Gary just nodded fervently. "Bingo, everyone here is alive because they surrendered to GDI. In other words, our faithlessness in Kane saved our lives, how about that, eh?"

Bob just shook his head in disbelief.

"So I guess, we'll roll with GDI for now, huh?"

Gary shrugged. "A new life for us all. And all it took is almost being killed!" He addressed several Nod troops nearby, who raised their bandaged limbs in support. "We're free, everybody!"

As numerous Nod guys cheered at Gary's loud remarks, Bob just quietly thought to himself on Stacy, and what he was going to do for the future. With the jubilation around him increasing by the second, with a few Shadows flying across the room tossing Cola bottles everywhere, Bob simply shrugged to himself.

_Most people would worry about where things are gonna go from here. But for me…let's just see how things go. My only concern is for you, Stacy. I just hope-_

A random Nod soldier bumped into him by accident, almost sending both of them tumbling to the floor.

"Hey! I was having an inner monologue! Do you mind?" Bob growled. The soldier who bumped into him responed by handing him a Cola and leaping into a nearby mosh pit.

Bob glanced at the drink in his hand, before flipping the cap off and thrusting it into the air.

"Heh, whatever."

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

_AN: Uh, yeah, that was kinda weird. I'm really not sure which genre I want this fic to go in. So I'm just experimenting with whatever comes to mind. Hope it was fun!_


	4. Hangover from Heaven

_AN: I actually never expected to get any sort of recognition for this fic, but this a pleasant surprise. All the nice reviews compelled me to continue updating this. Big thanks to Archangel, FAT DUDE, Dr. Mancusio, C and C Fan, Not-Going-To-Tell, eliteElite and KrivoKlatsko for their kind words. So, have fun!_

**AVATAR NOT READY**

Chapter 4

_Hangover from Heaven_

GDI Military Hospital

Yellow Zone N29

10:26 AM

It looked like a tornado of missiles had ravaged every square inch of the recovery wing. Stretchers lay in pieces; their mattresses ravaged into merciless balls of fluff. Light fixtures hanging by mere cables, swaying dismally, some clonking unconscious Nod Troops on the head from their resting positions on the floor.

"Mother of God." General Larkham breathed, surveying the destruction around him with wide eyes; just having entered the trashed room through the main access door. His two Commando bodyguards beside him, Colt and Alexei, gazed at the scene with equal negative awe.

"This must've been some party, huh…" Colt murmured with a sigh, his M4GL Carbine held loosely beside him.

Larkham mustered his courage and moved forward, stepping over several people as his bodyguards followed closely, roving their guns randomly at the fallen Nod soldiers.

"Careful, sir. I must still digress unto your choice in meeting the Avatar pilot in this way." Alexei spoke, formal and direct. "Why not send summons to your command quarters?"

"I did just that, soldier." Larkham replied evenly. "This party of theirs lasted three days, and my repeated attempts to contact the man where to no avail. This is the only way I can talk to him in person."

The three moved deeper into the recovery wing. The unexplainable destruction worsened as they continued onwards, but as they arrived in front of a makeshift hut fashioned from several gurneys and beds cobbled together, Larkham found the man he was searching for.

Larkham entered the hut as Colt and Alexei watched the doorway from the outside. The pungent smell of alcoholic cocktails and other unknown foodstuffs hit Larkham like a noxious hammer, forcing him to catch his balance on a wall adorned with a crap macaroni sketch of an Avatar Warmech.

"Holy…" Larkham choked, causing Colt to peek in briefly.

"Sir, what's wro--" Colt's face suddenly went green and he immediately reeled backwards out of the hut, retching horribly. Alexei yelps loudly from outside as a loud crash rings out. Some muffled yells follow as random Nod troops awaken to the commotion.

Larkham pulls a handkerchief from his breast pocket and applies it to his face. He walks a little further, knee deep in garbage.

"Master Sergeant Bob. I am General Steve Larkham of the 803rd Bloodhound Mechanized. I am here to discuss with you the details of the Avatar Redemption Program."

The general waits patiently for a response, surrounded by nameless junk. One of the mounds of crap moved slightly, rolling a few cans and clinking scotch bottles around.

"Is that, right?" The mound groaned. "What day is it? Tuesday?"

"It's Sunday."

"…Damn."

"Please come with me."

Bob grunted loudly and managed to rise from beneath the heap of trash, sending the empty cans and bottles rolling off in every direction. His hair was an absolute mess, shaping up to look like an inverted triangle with a little fluff at the tip. Bob's face was as haggard and weary as a three day drinking and partying binge could offer.

Larkham stiffened upon seeing Bob's appearance. He hated to use labels, but looking like total shit seemed to fit the bill.

"I'll give you a few minutes to get ready." Larkham worked his way back to the exit. "Your induction into the GDI military will begin immediately."

With that, Larkham left Bob to his crippling hangover; the hustle and bustle from outside declaring the start of the day.

XxxxxX

Bob emerged from the hut wearing a plain-looking jacket and jeans combo, his unused hood flapping behind him as he lumbered over the Nod troops who had yet to awaken, if they ever were going to anyway. He passed Gary on the way out, splayed out on a bed with a mustard soaked blanket covering a mass of feminine legs and arms poking out from underneath.

"Ugh, g'morning, Sergeant…" Gary managed, looking about himself wearily, taking notice of all the extra limbs.

He beamed red with embarrassment. "Uh, oh shit, what the……oh shit."

"Did you enjoy yourself, at least?" Bob added with smirk.

Gary shifted from his position a little causing one of the female limbs to fall from beneath the covers and topple to the floor, emitting a loud _clack _as it bounced off elsewhere.

"Plastic?" Gary breathed a huge sigh of relief, smacking himself in the forehead, albeit with a plastic arm.

"Why d'you look so relieved?" Bob asked, puzzled. "Wouldn't you have wanted something like this?"

Gary shook his head quickly. "It's complicated, man. I actually believe that sex is worthless without love."

Bob raised an eyebrow. "Really? You're more mature than I thought. You have that look of a one-girl man."

Gary didn't seem to be paying full attention, staring off at the ceiling dreamily, smiling a little.

Bob laughed a bit. "You're one in a million, Gary. She must be something else, huh?"

Before Gary could reply, a whiny chirrup of a voice broke in on the conversation from behind Bob. He didn't even have to turn around to be pissed off. It was Arnold Kingsley, the Nod Base Commander who Bob had served under before GDI wrecked the place. Kinsgley was still wearing his pressed Officer getup, save for a few mayonnaise stains and a piece of gum stuck to his one of his chest emblems. A round scorch mark had taken a slice from the rim of his cap, looking like an artillery shell had just missed his head, the lucky bastard.

"Master Sergeant Bob, how nice to see you looking…" Kingsley took in Bob's appearance. "…Alive."

Still with that insipid little sarcastic tone of his, Bob thought furiously.

"So, I suppose you think--" Kinsgley began, before Bob socked him in the gut with his fist, buckling the guy over, cutting off his whiny tone to end with a high pitched shriek.

There was a collective gasp from around them as a Nod Shadow started to juggle flaming knives using one foot; the incident with Kingsley going unnoticed.

"Nobody was retarded enough to put you in charge this time, piece of shit." Bob snarled, "Take a good look at yourself, _Commander, _this isn't your base anymore."

Bob left Kingsley to catch his breath, heading out the automatic door of the recovery wing, where Larkham and his two guards stood waiting.

"That was quite a show." Larkham remarked sincerely. "Setting the knives aflame was a nice touch."

"Yah, ok. Can we go?"

XxxxxX

After exiting the Military Hospital, Bob found himself deep in the heart of a GDI Base set in what looked like the same desert landscape as his last base. The GDI structures that loomed and towered over him imposingly shone with the piercing light of the morning sun, looking somewhat like beacons from heaven, or something poetic like that. The mass of troops and varied vehicles that roved randomly on every side intimidated Bob to a degree. There were _so _many of them. And they seemed to lack the general laziness and loss of direction that Bob had become accustomed to. They were honed fighting machines; experienced, organized, and patient.

"Scuse me, Larkham…" Bob started as they walked.

"Don't address the General in such a manner." Alexei snapped, his face unreadable behind the aquamarine blue of his helmet visor.

Larkham stopped, his guards doing the same. "I don't mind. After serving as long as I have, one tires of military formality."

Colt raised an eyebrow, but because he was wearing a helmet, nobody took notice.

Bob jumped a little, but held his ground. "Aaaanyway, I just needed to ask, you guys want me to pilot an Avatar Warmech of some kind, right?"

"Correct." Larkham replied simply, turning to face him.

A squadron of FireHawk Stratofighters roared by overhead, random troops cheered a bit at the brief spectacle, before going back to work.

"Why does GDI need me specifically? Couldn't they just get some hotshot to try it out instead?"

Larkham's narrowed his eyes. "I'm quite sure you know this, but the control scheme for the Avatar, or any other facsimile we make, are all built around this specific control method.

Bob almost fell to his knees. To think GDI was stupid enough to come to such a conclusion.

"H-hey, why…does the Avatar need that stupid dance rhythm mat to work properly?" Bob asked incredously. "Am I the only guy who sees anything wrong with that?"

Larkham quickly nodded. "I know where your concerns derive, but that is the only control scheme that works to any degree."

"This is all a joke…" Bob groaned.

"Having second thoughts? Guess you aren't the DDR champion those Nod guys said you were." Colt interrupted, hefting his rifle on his shoulder.

Bob thought to himself for a few seconds. These guys were serious. There was no denying that. But what if Bob refused to pilot their Avatar Warmech? What waited for him then? Would they just let him walk out of there to search for Stacy? If they didn't, would he be able to escape? That wasn't likely. The base was more than fortified.

No, he had to play by the rules for now. Who knows? If Bob did a good job in the GDI Avatar, they might even help him search for her.

Larkham, Colt and Alexei watched Bob quietly, waiting for a response.

"Bust out the mat."

XxxxxX

A few more minutes of walking later, the group arrived in front of a huge white dome-like structure, flanked everywhere by cranes and struts. Bob noticed the heavy security Zone Troopers surrounding the large entrance door, who almost immediately stepped aside when they spotted General Larkham. After more pointless security checks, retinal scanners and the like, they finally entered the interior of the structure.

Bob couldn't help gasping in clichéd awe. He thought the building had looked big on the outside, it was absolutely _mammoth _from the inside. The featureless ceiling stretched outwards for miles, almost looking like an artificial sky of metal. The ceiling distracted Bob from the real show-stealer situated in the very centre of the massive room.

Bob didn't just gasp this time, he screamed, briefly. It was an Avatar Warmech, coloured in dark shining chrome blue. It stood upwards, held in place by countless scaffolds and other heavy machinery. Hundreds of orange overall-wearing hardhats went about doing technical work all over the machine. Bob noticed one of the technicians break away from the group and start walking towards his group. It took him five-whole minutes to even get within talking range, but Bob was too busy staring at the Warmech in un-jaded awe.

"General Larkham! So great to see you today!" The tech guy yelled over all the mechanical ruckus coming from the Warmech. He couldn't look anymore stereotypically technician-like. Big, black framed glasses? Check. Clipboard? Check. Overall small stature and general timid unattractiveness? Check-a-roo.

"Mr Wesley, a mighty pleasure." Larkham smiled warmly, shaking hands fervently with him. "She looks about complete, I think. I've brought the Nod Avatar Pilot with me." Larkham politely waved Bob over, who still hadn't taken his eyes off the giant machine. "Bob, I'd like you to meet the Director of the GDI Avatar Renewal Project, Wesley Snipes."

Bob smiled a bit. "No kidding. Hiya." He shook hands with Wesley briefly. "Look forward to working with you all."

Wesley got a huge grin on his face, like a kid who had just gotten a Santendo PlayCube 720 for Christmas. "Oh, well, I'm excited about it to, Mr…"

"Bob."

"Oh, you don't have a surname?"

Bob shared a quick glance with Colt and Alexei, who hadn't said anything for a while. They both shrugged, unsure why Bob had looked to them for an answer in the first place.

"It's just Bob, Mr Wesley. I forgot my surname about three months ago. I think it rhymed with marshmallow. But that's about it."

Wesley's smile faltered a bit, before returning in earnest. "Okay, heh, heh. Well, a pleasure to meet you…Bob, I think you've already seen the Warmech behind me over there. So what do you think?"

"It. Is. BIG." Bob exclaimed.

After the formalities were over, the group marched over to the Warmech. Up close, Bob could see just how much more of a beast this Avatar was compared to his old one. It was at least SIX times the size, plus it's bipedal frame was much sleeker and bulkier at the same time. To put it simply, it looked like it'd been ripped right out of a Japanese Anime. Wesley looked the type, Bob guessed.

Wesley was busy giving everyone a schematic lowdown of the machine, to which Bob understood zero percent of what was being said. That didn't stop him from nodding his head every time Wesley paused, or repeating something that had just been said.

"Oh, a GEHRIN Type-50 Repulsor Engine with an S2 FCS model?" Bob nodded, hand to his chin.

"The very same!!" Wesley shrieked. Then he looked to somewhere beside Bob, Wesley's eyes gleaming with joy. "Oh, there you are!"

Bob turned, to see a Zone Trooper that had come out of nowhere, standing beside him.

"AHHH!" Bob yelled with a start, almost falling on his ass. "Where the hell did this guy come from?"

Bob stared at the motionless trooper for a moment. Upon inspection, he noticed that the guys armor and insignias were different to a Zone Trooper.

"Allow me to introduce your partner in crime, Mr Bob." Wesley started, still smiling like a maniac. "This is Sergeant Daryl Madison, from our ZOCOM Zone Raider division."

"Oh, how you doing?" Bob greeted, still shaken.

The trooper promptly lifted his helmet off before soccer-kicking it away fiercely. Bob screamed again. So too did the technicians who had to dramatically dive out of the way of a flying helmet.

"…Wah?!" Bob blurted.

Daryl Madison stared at Bob with a mix of joy and utter fascination.

"You're that Nod guy everyone's been talking about!" Daryl remarked in a silky tone.

Bob was wide eyed. It was a girl. The spitting image of Stacy, except her hair was dark and her eyes a dull green. Daryl was a degree younger to his eye, too.

"Ms Madison is going to be your co-pilot, Mr Bob." Wesley chimed in. "She's been dying to meet you."

Bob smiled. Not the kind of smile a sane man would wear, but the kind that said there was very little in the way of patience left.

_Could this day possibly get any more pointless? _

His thoughts were cut off when Daryl looked over to Larkham, still with that little coy smile on her face and asked:

"Is he retarded?"

Yes. Yes it could.

"Shit."

XxxxxxX

_AN: Please review, all!_


End file.
